


Two Men Walk into a Bar

by spikesgirl58



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-10 01:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and it goes downhill from there.  Warning - there be puns ahead - no, really...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Men Walk into a Bar

Illya Kuryakin regarded the opulent decor of the restaurant with a frown.  "I'm not so sure about this, Napoleon," he said.  "Are you sure you can afford this place?"

Napoleon Solo laughed.  "We're not here to eat, Illya."  He indicated a small raised dais at the end of the room.  A small group of musicians were playing a Henry Mancini selection.   "We're here to pick up our dates."   

Up on the platform, a lovely redhead was strumming the strings of a harp as the brunette singer made love to the song.  The dancing couples were barely moving to the music, but no one seemed to notice.  For them, it was just the moment, the music, and the person in their arms.  As the song finished, there was a generous helping of applause and the couples filed from the floor.

The band left the stage and Napoleon raised a hand to greeting as the singer looked in their direction.  She smiled and waved back, and then she nudged the harpist and pointed.  The redhead looked and smiled shyly at them.

“Let me guess, I get the shy redhead,” Illya murmured as they stepped back towards the rear of the restaurant.

“You know what they say about still waters, my friend.”  Napoleon held open his arms as the women exited from back stage.  “Trinity, you never sounded better.”

“It’s not me, it’s Mancini.  You can’t do injustice to his stuff; it’s just perfect.”  She slipped into Napoleon’s arms for a fast hug.  “And who do we have we here?”

“This is my partner, Illya Kuryakin, a musical virtuoso in his own right.  Illya, this is Trinity and Amelia.”  Napoleon gestured to each of the women in turn.  “Are we all ready for a night on the town?”

“There’s just one little problem.”  Amelia’s voice was barely audible over the dinner crowd.

“A lovely lady like you should never have a problem,” Illya said, taking her hand and barely kissing her fingers.

“Oh…”  Amelia looked as if she might bolt or faint.  Napoleon was close at hand for either.

“We need to take Amelia’s harp with us,” Trinity said, sending a scathing look towards the bar.  “The last time we left it here, someone messed around with it and it isn’t easy to find someone to tune one of those things.”

“Not a problem.”  Napoleon rubbed his hands together.  “The place I am suggesting happens to be a hopping little discotheque just around the corner.”

“Not… you got us into Sam’s Place?”

“The owner happens to be a very good friend of mine.  I’m sure Sam won’t have any problems locking your instrument up in his office.”

Thus assured, the foursome took off.  The night was everything Napoleon had promised and more.  As the evening wore on, Amelia became more comfortable and less inhibited, so that by the time they were waving for a taxi, she and Illya were very up close and personal with each other.

Napoleon watched his partner, happy that he’d been able to find a woman that could draw Illya out of his reticent shell and allow him to enjoy himself.  Napoleon was all about enjoying himself and from the signals he was getting from Trinity, she was similarly inclined.

The taxi was about a block away when Amelia suddenly pulled away from Illya’s embrace with a panic stricken look.

“Amelia, what’s wrong?” Trinity was suddenly all attention.

“I can’t!”  The woman was absolutely frantic and at first Napoleon glared at his partner, wondering just what Illya had attempted.  “I have to go back!”

“Why?”  Illya asked.

**(And I’m so sorry)**

The girl pointed to Napoleon.  "I left my harp in Sam's friend's disco."

 

 


End file.
